


The Almássies of Hungary

by MirTheOne



Category: Crusader Kings 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Gen, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25665331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirTheOne/pseuds/MirTheOne
Summary: Five members of the House of Almássy who held the title King of Hungary
Kudos: 4





	The Almássies of Hungary

János never expected to be king.

He was a distant cousin to the king, only made king because he was the closest Hungarian male-line descendant the Noble Council could track down when the royal family died in the earthquake that shook Esztergom. He didn’t even _want_ to be king. He was content with living life as he was before.

Still, he vowed that he would be a good king. One who paid attention to his subjects.

Even if it meant keeping his wife and son at a distance.

Still, as he laid in bed, old age eating at his bones, he wished he hadn’t been so distant. He thought back to his wife, how he wasn’t there for most of her final days. He thought of his son, who couldn’t even be bothered to be here by his side.

János closed his eyes, and prayed to God that his son would be a better father and husband than he had ever been.

* * *

Boldiszár lived for war. There’s nothing that could change that.

As king, he revoked the Duke of Balaton’s titles, leaving the Hungarian nobles nothing more than mere counts and barons who could do nothing against his might. He waged wars against neighboring countries, personally leading the armies every step of the way. He was rarely home, and so he left the tedious parts of ruling like _governing_ to his wife and trusted confidants.

When his oldest son died, Boldiszár drank his weight in alcohol. Then he went to war with Serbia, leaving his wife to take care of Zsófia and Dömötör.

Even as years went by and he had more children, he was never home. Never there for them. War was his flesh and blood, not snotty, crying brats.

When news broke that the king died on the battlefield, no one was surprised. No one grieved much for a king they never knew. Not even his wife and children.

* * *

Dömötör had _dreams,_ and one of them was to see his dynasty spread across Europe, ruling over the mightiest nations. And his greatest weapon to achieve this dream was his siblings.

Zsófia was a lost cause. She ran off to Italy to marry the Pope’s bastard son, and she swore to never return to Hungary until the day she died. 

No matter. He had four more siblings to work with. 

He married his brothers to neighboring princesses and installed their wives as queens. His sisters were a bit tricky, but he managed to make both of them queens in their respective countries. _Sure,_ it took some assassinations and an entire war, but as his father used to say, “All is fair in love and war.” 

When he married an Austrian princess for her claim, he expected to feel the same about his children.

But no, Dömötör adored her daughters. Amália, Mária, and Margaréta, all lights of his life. He would never, ever wish any harm to come to them. He wanted them to have long, happy lives.

As he lay dying of pneumonia, Dömötör’s biggest regret was the fact that he never got to see his daughters grew up.

* * *

Amália became Queen at 16, and yet she couldn’t shake off her more… unladylike habits.

Theoretically, she _knew_ she’s supposed to court handsome young men of high status, but this one, this bishop… He was so kind and caring and he _loved_ her oh-so-deeply…

When they found out that she was pregnant, her mother tucked her away in the palace and assumed her duties. Amália spent her second year as queen seeing nothing but walls, walls, and more walls.

Still, she hoped that this child she’s bearing would one day be given the prestige and status that she and her sisters had.

Something went wrong. The birthing process took too long. Amália was too weak. As the nursemaids pulled her son away from her, she gripped Mária’s arm tight. She gathered her final strength to whisper hoarsely in her sister’s ear, wishing for Izsák to be made king if she died.

Mária smiled and nodded. Content, Amália let her go, slipping away into an eternal sleep herself.

* * *

Mária was not an idiot. She always knew that she was more fit to be queen than Amália, and Izsák was a bastard. The rightful queen was crowned at 14.

She went on with her life. She married a handsome Spanish prince, who she grew to love. She gave birth to two lovely daughters, the oldest of the two was betrothed to the Crown Prince of Bohemia. She gave her all to her husband, daughters, and nation, and was beloved by all Hungarians. The gentle queen Mária.

No one needed to know about Amália’s last wish. No one needed to know about Margaréta, groveling in the dungeons. No one needed to know the real reason behind her mother’s illness. No one needed to know who set the fire that killed all of her Austrian cousins and caused a succession crisis.

Izsák found a good match in the Duchess of Modena. He even thanked Mária for arranging the meeting! Amália would be so proud…

When she died of old age, her daughters were all grown up and her husband had died a long, long time ago. The nation grieved, and many foreign dignitaries offered their condolences. No one knew the truth behind their beloved queen, and perhaps, it was better so.


End file.
